I'll Save You
by Keelia Ann
Summary: Obi-Wan Kenobi and Qui-Gon Jinn are on a mission to capture a deadly Jedi Killer. But everything has gone wrong. Qui-Gon has been kidnapped, and Obi-Wan, his only hope, has been infected by a poison more terrible than anything even the killer would use...
1. Chapter 1: Cut Off

**I'll Save You**

Characters: Obi-Wan Kenobi, Qui-Gon Jinn

Rating: M

Genre: Drama

Summery: Obi-Wan Kenobi and Qui-Gon Jinn are on a mission to capture a deadly Jedi Killer. But everything has gone wrong. Qui-Gon has been kidnapped, and Obi-Wan, his only hope, has been infected by a poison more terrible than anything even the killer would use...

Posted: 14 January 2009 by Keelia Ann

Disclaimer: This is the a pre-series to another, more romantic story I am currently writing. The story, What Love Feels Like, was basically another of my silly romantic comedies (much like No Sense of Humor). I am getting bored of that type of fiction, and want to go back to some of the darker, more mature stories I used to write. If this pleases me, What Love Feels Like will soon follow.

Chapter 1: Cut Off

Obi-Wan Kenobi was hanging upside-down.

He knew this because his arms were hanging up, pulled over his head by gravity. He could feel blood rushing to his head. He had smashed his head against a tree when the trap had thrown him into the air; a steady drip of his life fell from the matted clump of hair around the injury. The rope that held him aloft, a primitive, organic thing, was a tourniquet around his left calf.

He tried to focus his thoughts. How far off the ground was he? Would he land on his feet if he fell? Could he reach the rope with his lightsaber? He felt groggy, weak. He had no idea what to do, no idea what to think. He had to hurry and free himself before the blood loss sent him to unconsciousness, which his poisoned body would slip into soon regardless if he did not get his muscles moving.

If he died, Qui-Gon would have no hope.

"Qui-Gon," Obi-Wan whispered. His eyes could produce no tears, not after a day of sobbing. Yet even the grief before did not compare to the sorrow that filled him now.

He had failed his master. He could not save Qui-Gon, because he could not feel the Force. Without it he was blind and deaf and numb. Losing the Force was like losing a limb, losing all of his limbs. The Force had been his heartbeat, his lifeblood.

Because of the poison, he had been cut off.

...

"Obi-Wan!" Qui-Gon's face was white, the Force warped around him, twisting with his concern. "What happened?"

Confused, Obi-Wan blinked and questioned, "Is something wrong?"

"_Your arm_."

Obi-Wan looked down and gasped. The sleeve of his right arm was soaked red. He tried raising it, but found it would not even twitch. He lifted the limb up carefully with his other arm and discovered a sickening gash on the back of his forearm. It stretched from his elbow down to just above his wrist, and bit deep into his muscle. His heart thudded as he realized with frightened shock it truly was _his _arm. Blood gushed from the wound in time with the heightened beat.

"Qui-Gon..." Obi-Wan could not tear his eyes from the wound. "I _can't feel it_. I can't feel my whole arm."

His master was sitting him down, opening one of their medpacs. "I'm sorry, Obi-Wan." Qui-Gon's movements were rapid, but precise, as he removed his Padawan's blood heavy cloak and shirt. "We both know how dangerous this jungle is. I was paying so much attention to trying to locate the Killer that I forgot to focus on survival."

Obi-Wan was trying to concentrate. His mind was oddly muddled, it took longer to focus than it should have. "Master," he said, finally looking up, "how badly do you think the poison will affect me? Will the numbness go away, or will it spread?"

Qui-Gon smiled; his grey blue eyes met Obi-Wan's and held them. "Don't worry, Obi-Wan." Qui-Gon's calm spread to Obi-Wan, filling him with trust. "I have been careless today. But I will take care of you, I promise."

Obi-Wan smiled back, but he was less confident than Qui-Gon. "I didn't even _feel _it," Obi-Wan said, not sure if he was embarrassed or scared. "I have no idea what did this to me."

Qui-Gon had just finished cleaning Obi-Wan's arm and the wound. "You might not," he agreed, "but our chemcomp will." He pulled out the small device and placed a wad of blood wet cloth in it. "Mace Windu made sure we got the best available for this planet—all the poisons in the Archives are stored here." He spread bacta along Obi-Wan's gash and then carefully began wrapping it with gauze. "Dejuku may not be in the Republic, but it is famous for its deadliness. No civilizations have risen here; the plants are the only things that survive here."

"And over the millennia, the plants have grown only more and more deadly as they evolved—only the most poisonous lasted." Obi-Wan grimaced at his wound. "Our Killer really is mad. To live here just to get the poisons—he is truly obsessed."

His light tone did not hide his true sympathies on their target from Qui-Gon. That was fine. His master felt the same way about the monster.

The chemcomp beeped. "And now we'll know," Qui-Gon said, picking it up. He blinked.

"That's _impossible_," he whispered.

Obi-Wan frowned. It was not like Qui-Gon to break composure. "What's wrong?" Obi-Wan felt his anxiety grow as Qui-Gon did not respond. Nervously, he asked, "It isn't lethal, is it?"

Qui-Gon slowly shook his head. "It's worse than that..." He showed his Padawan the screen.

Obi-Wan felt his heart drop. The screen read, in letters cruelly blood red:

FOREIGN CONTAMINANT UNKNOWN.

Obi-Wan gave Qui-Gon a desperate look.

"I've been poisoned by nothing?"

...

Obi-Wan had been cut off. That was far worse than pain, far worse than death. This was something he never could have prepared for. He had been crippled in such a way that he dreamed of agony, _dreamed _of agony as he hung from that rope, that primitive, organic thing.

Then, in an instant of clarity, Ob-Wan realized, in one sense, he was lucky. Because at least right now he was in a lethal situation. Death was something he could fight against, death was something he faced almost everyday.

His death would mean Qui-Gon's death. His death would mean Qui-Gon would be tortured with a thousand agonies, with a thousand poisons. His death would mean Qui-Gon would be tortured until his organs melted, until death became a blessing. His death would mean Qui-Gon would have no hope against the Killer.

"Qui-Gon," Obi-Wan whispered, "I would give up the Force a hundred times, if it would save you." He reached for his lightsaber. Even without the Force, even with his left hand, years made it feel comfortable in his grip. "But I have already lost it and I cannot again." He powered up his lightsaber. It glowed blue like his Master's eyes. "So I'll fight. I'll fight death, and I'll keep death from you."

Obi-Wan wretched his body up, swung his lightsaber, and cut the rope. He twisted in the air and landed heavily on his feet. He gasped and powered down his lightsaber. His body was so weak; his muscles screamed at him just for staying crouched in his landing. The shrieked for him to give up, to give in, to die so they could die with him.

"Qui-Gon," Obi-Wan whispered, "_I'll save you_." He stood and straightened.

But he had risen too soon. His head spun; the jungle quaked. As his body collapsed, it took all of Obi-Wan's strength just not to black out.


	2. Chapter 2: Poison

Posted: 31 January 2009

Disclaimer: Thanks for the reviews. I hope this chapter pleases you equally.

Chapter 2: Poison

Qui-Gon Jinn had rarely been in such pain in his entire life.

The Killer, who he still had not seen, had dislocated both of his shoulders. His arms had been stretched back behind his head and chained high on the ancient wall behind him. Though the tendons holding his arms to his body felt intact, he had to keep his back stiff and straight, for if he leaned forward they threatened to snap. His ankles had been chained close to the wall, keeping him in an awkward, twisted kneeling position. Now, after unknown hours in captivity, his muscles were cramped into rocks. Beyond even that, the poison that had knocked him out when he was captured had left him in a feverish state. Sweat coated his naked body, dripped off him onto the floor, as he struggled to keep his limbs from flailing as flames of the toxin tore across his already throbbing flesh.

Qui-Gon had rarely been in such pain in his entire life. But he was the lucky one.

He could still feel the Force.

...

Worry and tension filled flowed through the Force, filling the room. Qui-Gon frowned. There were only two waiting for Obi-Wan and him; they were Mace Windu and Yoda. The Masters never let such emotions affect them. Except when things were beyond serious.

Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan sat, cross legged, on the pillows before the masters. The room was dark, closed off; could this mission be so secret, so terrible, that this pure meeting place in the Jedi Temple had to be so cloistered?

"Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan, you have been together for three years and a half years." Mace Windu's forefinger stroked his cheek, a sign of deep thought. "Despite that small amount of time, you have proven to be an exceptional pair. Yoda thinks you can handle this mission. I, however, have reservations." His eyes were hard. "This mission will challenge you in ways you can not imagine."

"Risk lives other than his own, wishes Mace not," Yoda explained. "But allow him to go, I can not."

"You do things differently, Qui-Gon, than anyone else," Mace admitted reluctantly. "Sometimes you break the rules. And though the council does not approve of that, Yoda and I both agree we need your imagination for this mission."

"Broken must the rules be," Yoda agreed. "For a Jedi Killer, you must hunt."

A spike of shock shot out from Obi-Wan. "You mean... the rumors are true? There is really a man hunting Jedi?"

Mace nodded. "He tracks them through the Force. He captures them, tortures them, and then kills them. All using poisons of the worst kind."

"Two Jedi and one Padawan already killed he has." Yoda shook his head sadly. "A girl the last one killed was."

"She wasn't thirteen yet." Mace stared into the distance. "His toxins melted her organs. There wasn't a mark on her body; she died from the inside out. She could have been sleeping, except for her face. Her dying pain from the poison turned it to a mask."

Qui-Gon's body was very cold. Jedi do not feel anger, they do not feel vengeance. But when evil arises, when a terrible force comes to power, they feel justice. And they make sure the evil is stopped.

Qui-Gon looked at his Padawan. Obi-Wan looked back. They felt the same thing, and trusted each other completely.

"We'll do it." Qui-Gon was calm. "We'll hunt down this poison killer."

...

Poison. Poison is what they had come hunting. Poison is what filled Qui-Gon now. Poison is what he should have been wary of, should have protected his Obi-Wan from.

Poison is what cut his Padawan off from the Force.

_Obi-Wan_, Qui-Gon thought, his heart breaking, _I've failed you._

He had known how dangerous Dejuku was. Yet he had let down his guard. Mace had been right to hesitate; he had not been ready to come here.

But one can not undo the past. Qui-Gon could not un-poison his Padawan. But he could break the rules, he could use his imagination. So he let himself be caught.

Qui-Gon was glad for the pain. This pain he had rarely felt so much of his entire life. The Killer knew what Qui-Gon felt, he knew everything about poisons. So he would feel he was in a position of power.

_He will reveal what the poison is._ Qui-Gon gasped briefly as his body screamed at an involuntary spasm. _Because why would he hide anything from a dying man?_

Qui-Gon thought of his Obi-Wan. He remembered the pain, the agony, that had warped his face. He remembered his own agony as he held his small, sobbing Padawan in his arms.

_I failed you once, Obi-Wan, but never again. _Qui-Gon felt strength, knowing what he would do. _I promise, Padawan. I'll save you._


End file.
